Eight. It’s hard to believe that it was 8 years ago that you came into my life. After two tragic heartbreaks before you… now you were born… crying in my arms. Life has never been the same. Your smile and laugh are the joy that fills my very soul. Your dark eyes shining with mischief. Your long wavy hair sparkles in the sunshine and makes me long for more lazy summer days flying through the air on the swings. Soon enough you’ll feel as if you’re too old to swing anymore.
I hope you never feel as if you’re too old to hug and kiss me before you walk out the door. Never too old to snuggle and read a book. Never too old to make french toast on Sunday mornings. Never too old for spontaneous dancing. Never too old to hold my hand when we cross the street. (Ok… you can be too old for that one… but not just yet!)
Happy birthday to my first born. My Rachel.